The Nameless Castle eBook

When the pugs had gone through their part of the program,
the little maid proceeded to attire herself, a task
she performed behind a tall folding screen. When
she stepped forth again, she had on a gorgeous Chinese-silk
wrapper, covered all over with gay-colored palms, and
confined only at the waist with a heavy silk cord.
Her hair was twisted into a single knot on the crown
of her head.

Then she prepared breakfast for herself and her guests.
The eight of them drank cold milk, and ate of the
dainty little cakes which some one placed on her table
every night while she slept. To-day Marie did
not amuse herself with her guests, but turned over
the leaves of her picture-book, thus passing the time
until she should hear, after the bell had rung twice,
the tap at her door.

“Come in!”

The man who entered was surprised.

“What? We are not yet ready for the drive?”
he exclaimed.

The maid threw her book aside, ran toward him, and
flung her arms with childish abandon around his neck.

“We are not going to drive to-day. Dost
thou not know that this is my birthday—­that
I alone give orders in this house to-day? To-day
everything must be done as I say; and I
say that we will pass the time of the drive here in
my room, and that thou shalt answer several silly
questions which have come into my head. And forget
not that we are to ‘thou’ each other to-day.
And now, congratulate me nicely. Come, let us
hear it!”

The count almost imperceptibly bent his knee and his
head, but spoke not one word. There are gratulations
which are expressed in this manner.

“Very good! Then I am a queen for to-day,
and thou art my sole subject. Sit thou here at
my feet on this taboret.”

The man obeyed. Marie seated herself on the ottoman,
and drew her feet underneath the wide skirt of her
robe.

“Put that book away!” she commanded, when
Ludwig stooped to lift from the floor the volume she
had cast there. “I know every one of the
four volumes by heart! Why dost not thou give
me one of the books thou readest so often?”

“Because they are medical works.”

“And why dost thou read such books?”

“In order that, should any one in the castle
become ill, I may be able to cure him or her without
a doctor.”

“And must the person die who is ill and cannot
be cured?”

“That is generally the end of a fatal illness.”

“Does it hurt to die?”

“That I am unable to tell, as I have never tried
it.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the maid. “Thou
canst not put me off that way! Thou knowest many
things thou hast not yet tried. Thou hast read
about them; thou knowest! What is death like?
Is it more unpleasant than a disagreeable dream?
Is the pain all over when one has died, or is there
more to come afterward? If death is painful, why
must we die? If it is pleasant, why must we live?”